


Summer Dew

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Ballerina, Ballet, Ballet Studio, Crushes, Dancer, Dancer AU, Dancers, F/F, First Meetings, Letters, Love Letters, Muggle AU, Pen Pals, Penelope Clearwater POV, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, ballerinas, penelope pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 22:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: The amount she had learned from Fleur through her words was immeasurable, not only about ballet but about herself. How could someone you have never met make such an impact on who you have become?





	Summer Dew

Penelope imagined her accent to be soft when she whispered and her conversational voice to be as graceful as her penmanship. She imagined her pointe shoes to be broken-in in all the right places, so the curve of her arch matched the curve of her waist. Her pirouettes were probably set in motion with so little force that she made it look easy. She probably never had to try to be a natural ballerina, unlike herself. 

She imagined that her ballet studio in France was full of pastels and the floors were regularly shined. She imagined her long blonde hair was up tied in a perfect knot above her head; fly-aways probably never existed when it came to Fleur Delacour. She was probably put together in a way that Penelope never was. That's what she imagined from her letters. 

Penelope never expected to fall in love with someone she had never met; she never expected to have a pen-pal either, but here she was. She was writing her fourth letter that week for her third year in a row. Her instructor Madam Minerva had offered up the idea three years ago so her ballerinas could get to know dancers in other countries. She claimed it would help them grow and improve their own technique. She was not wrong; she rarely ever was. The amount she had learned from Fleur through her words was immeasurable, not only about ballet but about herself. _How could someone you have never met make such an impact on who you have become?_

She read over her letter one last time, and she hoped she wasn't being pushy. Fleur had never asked to meet her before, so Penelope decided to take the leap. It couldn't hurt to ask, but she was unsure if Fleur even wanted that from her. She seemed to like to keep their relationships sealed away in letters where no one else could find them. The privacy was Penelope's favorite part, too, but she _had_ to see her in person. She wanted more of Fleur than just the old photograph that resided in her dance bag; she wanted to feel her blonde hair in-between her fingers; she wanted to watch as Fleur extended her legs leaping across the dance floor. Maybe she was asking for too much, maybe Fleur wouldn't even want to allow her these things, but she had to try. She couldn't keep her desires to herself any longer.

> _May I come and see you? I have been dreaming of you for years._

Penelope felt her breath catch as she read her last line to Fleur. She was tempted to erase it and start over, but she packed up the courage not to and signed her name.

> _Love,_
> 
> _Penny_

She took a deep breath as she sealed her letter into an envelope and addressed it. She dropped it in the mailbox on her way home from practice. Penelope didn't even notice Madam Minerva smiling as she watched her leave her studio. 

* * *

Time passed, and she got her letter back from Fleur. Her heart was racing a thousand paces a minute. She closed her eyes as she broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out her letter. As she unfolded the parchment, she recognized Fleur's penmanship instantly. It was as familiar to her now as breathing was.

 ** _Penny_** , the first line said, **_I would love to finally meet you. I have also dreamed of meeting you for years._**

As Penelope exhaled from relief, she noticed the train station by Fleur's house was written below. That's where she wanted to meet. Without another thought, Penelope grabbed the first piece of parchment she could find to reply.  

She was off to see Fleur the very next week.

* * *

As Penelope exited her train car, morning summer dew settled gently against her skin. She took a deep breath as the sunrise peaked through the thin layer of clouds and knew it was going to be a beautiful day. She had never been to France, even though her mother had told her she would take her many times before.

The train whistled as it started to depart from the station behind her. She was about to look back, but that's when she caught sight of Fleur Delacour across the way. Her blonde hair was down and blowing in the breeze the train created as it pulled away. Penelope self-consciously tucked one of her own blonde curls behind her ear.

She walked towards her for awhile before Fleur turned around and noticed her, so she took that opportunity to admire Fleur from a distance. 

Her legs were as long as in her photograph, and her posture was as perfect as she had always imagined her voice to be. Her skin was as pale as her pointe shoes, except for her rosy cheeks in the morning dew. Penelope was blown away; she was better than in her dreams. As Fleur turned her head, she was as graceful as Penelope had imagined. 

Penelope parted her lips to call out to Fleur, but no words came out. She was mesmerized as Fleur's blue eyes stared back into her own. Fleur did not utter a single word either, all she did was smile as the sun came up and broke away from the clouds. 

Penelope smiled back and sighed from relief. _She was finally home, and it was better than she had ever imagined._  


End file.
